Confessions

Here's a confession. I don't draw as much as I should.

That's not really a secret to people who know me. I'm a procrastinator. I'm a daydreamer rather than a doer. I'm determined in my goals, but not in my actions. I'm motivated in ways that do not help me and I lack gumption in ways that could push me forwards.

I find art - the act of making art - hard. Not the technical properties. Not anatomy or painting skills or perspective. I find it hard because I lack the drive. I have friends who wake up with this need to draw. They draw in the coffee shops, in class, in work, in bed. They draw, draw, draw because it's in their blood, it's their soul, it's what they do. They churn out pages and pages of sketches and designs and ideas, silly things like a new Zootopia fursona, or a sketch involving their roleplay character, or a doodle of Pikachu eating a cake, or thumbnail scenes for their latest comic idea, or anything and everything because that's what they do. I have friends who simply radiate creativity.

I absolutely, thoroughly, envy them.

I'm an artist. I know this. I knew it when I spent days drawing at the kitchen table as a child, and I know it now when somebody squeals at a print I'm selling, proclaiming their love for it, buying it to frame and hang on their wall. I know it with the same conviction that I know my name. My gender. My age. I am Selena Thomas. I am an artist.

There are people in the world who consider art a frivolous waste of time, as easy and expendable. They are so hilariously wrong. Art is not easy in the first place, and I find it even harder in my lack of creative spark. The drive to create art does not come easily to me, and for every day I struggle, for every day the work is a chore, for every day my stylus weighs a hundred tons and my brain is fluff and dumb and slow and easily distracted by social media and silly things, I ask myself if this is real. If this is me, being honest with myself. Is this what I'm meant to do?

And yet... I know the answer, because I don't actually think I'm alone. I actually think this is surprisingly common, a behind-the-scenes admission you rarely see in daylight, and that a lot of artists suffer from the same feelings as me. For every artist who emanates creativity, there are hundreds of others who struggle, who are plagued with black days and art blocks and missing muses. From the outside perspective, as the viewer, we don't see that for ourselves. We see the creativity, the results of actually doing. And I suppose to the hundreds of people who come along to my table at conventions, I must come across just as creative and productive as the best of them. I'm sure there are people who look at my art and think 'I wish I drew as much as she does. She must be drawing all the time!', because the results are there, clear as day, and they hide the struggle and self-doubt.

But the results are there. Through the struggle comes the sense of purpose, the finished pieces, the progress, the results of actually doing. So maybe I'm not one of the lucky ones who feels compelled and able to draw all the time, but I do create, and people enjoy my creations, and that's worth fighting through the art block for. 

So yes, this is what I'm meant to do. Sometimes things don't go according to plan and sometimes it's very easy to be knocked back and find yourself re-evaluating your choices, but honestly it all comes back to the one honest truth in it all. I'm an artist. Sometimes it's hard, but it is always worth it.

I messed up tonight, I lost another fight
I still mess up but I'll just start again
I keep falling down, I keep on hitting the ground
I always get up now to see what's next